Death Song
by Valkyrie Shepherd
Summary: The warden has just left the Fade and finds the mage who promised her the Litany of Adralla, only to find that he is still clinging to life!


** After leaving the Fade I always felt weird just going and looting poor Niall's body. I always liked the guy. So I envisioned a better moment for him.

Female

Dalish Elf Origin.

Name: Eibhlin (little bird)**

Death Song

Everything blurred twisted, then finally the world swam back into view. Eibhlin reached up, placing her fingers on her temples. Her war-hound let out a loud "woof" that snapped her fully awake like cold water being thrown over her. She even shivered. Her skin felt clammy with cold sweat. The floor was chilly as well, she realized, sitting up. But why was she on the floor at all? And why was she in a strange, round room filled with the smells of decay and death?

"Is everyone alright?" she asked, her voice husky as though she had been asleep awhile.

"What happened?" Alistair's voice sounded as rasping as her own.

"We are alright," Wynne assured them. In moments the mage's fingers were alight with healing magics. They coursed warmly over the group and Eibhlin's head felt much clearer.

"The Litany of Adralla," Eibhlin stood, scanning the room. "Naill said it would be-" she stopped herself when she saw his body. He lay, spread-eagle, on the damp flagstones. "Oh, Mythal," she breathed, full of sympathy for the plight of the fallen mage. She knelt beside him, hands poised to search through his belongings for the Litany, but she couldn't bring herself to. Net yet. Instead her fingertips found his neck, seeking a pulse. "Wynne!" she shouted, "he's still alive!"

The elderly mage was at her side in seconds, kneeling and feeling for the pulse herself. "Yes. Barely," More white magic ran from Wynne's open hands, coiling like clouds around the man.

Eibhlin found herself grasping Niall's hand. "He's freezing," she breathed. "Alistair, your cloak."

Alistair willingly tugged off his cloak and passed it to her, a look of concern in his normally jovial eyes. Eibhlin spread it over Niall like a blanket, then took his hand again, breathing on it and rubbing it between hers. She wasn't sure why she was so determined that he should live. Perhaps it was merely the connection they had formed in the Fade. He had been the first person she had met. While he had been pessimistic, he has given her a reason to try. A glimmer of hope.

Wynne sat back on her heels, sighing and wiping the back of her hand across her brow. "I am sorry, Warden. Stronger magic than mine leeched his life from him. I cannot give it back."

"He knew he was dying," Alistair spoke, his voice quiet and respectful.

Big, the war-dog, walked over and lay down beside the dying mage, nuzzling Niall's other hand. Eibhlin reached down and touched Niall's cheek, brushing his messy hair out of his eyes. His eyes, which opened. They blinked confusedly at her. "Niall?" she asked, her voice as gentle as it had been when she had coaxed a wounded halla to stand again. A voice she seldom used now that her life was filled with bloodshed and war.

"You...you are from my dream?" he asked. His voice was very faint. He kept his eyes locked on her, as though if he looked away she might vanish. "No. Not a dream. The Fade. Did you take it? The Litany?" His free hand twitched, moving with great effort towards a pouch at his side.

Eibhlin stayed his hand, "we'll get it. For the moment we are focusing on you."

"It's...it's brighter than I remember." he said, finally allowing his eyes to flick around the room. He didn't seem to see Alistair of Wynne, though his eyes did linger on Big's large face. "It also smells...smells more like dog than I recall."

Eibhlin gave a weak laugh. Certainly she had seen people die. She had sat vigil with some herself. It was Dalish never to leave the dying alone. That was the power of the clan. To never be alone. She did not think about it now. Did not question staying by the mage's side until he passed on.

"You are more beautiful than the Fade let me see," he whispered, his thin lips barely moving. "I wish...I wish I could have lived to..." he seemed unable to finish.

"Shhhh," she soothed, clasping both of his hands now. Her hands were small, with delicate elvish fingers. They barely covered his. She always thought human hands clumsy, though she suspected mages' were less so. "Would you like me to sing to you?" she asked.

"Here?" he questioned, weakly.

"Well, I could sing in the hall, but I think you might have difficulty hearing me." Niall's mouth curled into a thin smile and he nodded. She sang him a Dalish death song, though she translated it to common for him. She always thought that made the tune lose some of its beauty, but he smiled all the same as she sang.

"Look to the hills,

where the sun, it is westering.

Follow your paths,

to places unknown.

Never you fear,

for soon you'll be home.

Hear the songs of the people,

so truly and clearly.

The sons and the daughters,

say that you're not alone.

Never you fear,

for soon you'll be home.

Sing with the river,

the wolf and the stag.

Song of the people,

who walk paths of stone.

Never you fear,

for soon you'll be home.

"There are more verses but..." she hesitated, looking at Niall's face. His eyes were closed, he appeared to be asleep, the corners of his mouth still turned up in a smile. She let one of his hands go and touched her fingers to his neck. No pulse. She bowed her head, saying a silent prayer to the Creators. She lay his hands on his chest, then drew the Litany from the pouch, tucking into her belt. "Don't worry, friend. I may not have had much chance to know you in this life, but I think we will meet again in the next."


End file.
